Measurements
by TheSexiestManDumbledoreKnows
Summary: Ron discovers Harry's fascination with lengths and what he likes to get up to at night


The youngest Weasley boy awoke to the foot-post of his bed cutting off the blood circulation in his lower legs again. He couldn't remember when his massive growth spurt occurred or if he had one at all. For all he knew, someone could have exchanged his bed for one made for house elves. Unlikely. He experimentally lifted his legs, still heavy as lead in his sleep-thick state, completely unaware of the solid mass his feet would hit in three… two… one…

The mass let out a groan upon impact and fell to the floor with a thud. Ron jumped and rubbed his eyes to get a better look at what he kicked out of the air.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"

A disgruntled boy ith a mop of thick black hair sat up and rubbed his head, where he was sure he felt a bump forming. "ow Ron! Try not to hit me in the head next time, would ya?"

"Next time?! This isn't the first?!" he screamed, as he yanked his duvet up to his chin to hide his chest.

"Don't look so freaked out Ron," Harry exclaimed. He felt around the floor for his glasses and put them on, "I didn't do anything wrong." He smiled at his red-haired friend and got up, plopping himself down on his own bed across the room. Ron peered over at him from behind the safety of his duvet.

With one last uncertain stare at his friend, Ron frantically leapt out of his bed and searched himself for any indication as to what his friend may have… done. He paid no attention to the black-haired boy across the room during his frenzy, but all Harry did was sit, stare and smile.

After finding nothing suspicious on his person, Ron warily climbed back into his creaky bed. It was then that his toes got caught in something long and twisty. He shrieked and sent his duvet flying onto the floor. He was relieved to find his wiggly attacker was not a snake. It was a tape measure.

He freed himself and looked from it to Harry with a bewildered expression. Ron's gaze intensified and contorted into something of horror. Harry winked. "Um, Harry…" Ron began. He wasn't quite sure how best to word his concern but he continued anyway, "Why did you climb onto the posters of my bed with a… measuring tape?" the redhead was beyond confused, and a little weirded out.

"Well!" Harry started, he seemed oddly enthusiastic, "I was just needing some up to date measurements. Your overall length has increased quite substantially this term."

"My what?"

"Length," Harry cocked his head to the side to try to determine how to translate Ron's expression.

"Dean?... Seamus?" Ron desperately searched for the other boys in their dorm, but to no avail.

"No, Ron. No need to worry, we're alone- they've all gone down to breakfast." Harry popped up off his bed and walked over to Ron's, who instinctively shuffled backwards. "Ron! Stop it- Ron!" Harry chuckled as several items flew across the room. A pillow hit Harry square in the face, "Oomph!" Harry bent down and picked up the pillow, held it against his nose, and inhaled deeply.

Whilst the dark-haired boy was distracted, Ron, as stealthily as possible, tried to get out of bed and make it to the door. He bounded down the stairs and into the common room, flinging open the portrait of the Fat Lady. It whacked an unsuspecting first year on the other side, probably giving him concussion.

"I'm so sorry!" He yelled over his shoulder as he continued to charge down the corridor. "Professor, Professor Snape! Please- you've got to help me. It's Harry- but it's not _really_ Harry- I mean, it _is_ Harry, but he's all… _weird_. I think he's been given some sorta potion and gone completely barmy."

"Mr. Weasley, if you will please stop that intolerable blabbering and make sense, I may consider investigating what mess your precious Potter has found himself in now."

"Harry. Weird. In dorm. Please help". He turned to lead the way back to the Gryffindor common room, with Severus Snape at his heels.

Ron hesitantly pushed the door open to reveal to the professor his not-so-normal best friend. Except, he wasn't in the middle of the room where he left him sniffing the pillow. He was lying on Ron's bed, face buried deeply into the mattress.

Ron and Professor Snape stared at Harry from the door way without saying a word. The only noise in the dormitory was the steady panting coming from Harry as he rhythmically bounced his crotch against the mattress, still completely face down. Ron threw Snape a look of shock horror, "You're not who I'd want to go to for help, but if Harry's doped up on some whack-job of a potion, you'd know."

The last thing Snape wanted to do was approach the thrusting Gryffindor student- he could lose his job if someone was to walk in and take the situation the wrong way. As he edged his way closer, Harry not even taking any notice of him, Snape reluctantly went to touch Harry's shoulder. His eyes suddenly caught sight of an overturned open book poking out from beneath Harry. He pulled it out from under him and flicked through the pages. "Seems like Mr. Potter here has been keeping a little diary." He snickered and continued to skim read.

Ron watched Snape's blank expression intently, "Well, what does it say?" Ron edged his way closer to the professor and took the diary out of his hands. This was not a difficult task- Snape took no heed as he was almost vibrating where he stood with an expression strained painfully across his face. Ron turned back to the first page:

 _26_ _th_ _September 1993_

 _Ron. The name rolls of my tongue like a tyre. No, like a quill over parchment. No, like a warm breeze blowing over wisps of grass on a beautiful summer's day. Yeah, that sounds good. I could say his name all day. I wish it wasn't so short. How could such a short name belong to a boy of five and a half feet of deliciousness. It's ironic. I measured Ron's lengths today. I found that the best way to do it is to measure from above. That way, I can have a great view too._

 _ **Lengths:**_

 _ **Head to toes:**_ _5 foot 5 inches_

 _ **Arms:**_ _2 feet_

 _ **Right leg:**_ _3 foot 4 inches_

 _ **Left leg:**_ _3 foot 3.5 inches_

Ron forced his eyes away from his apparent thirteen year-old self's 'lengths' up to his friend, now whimpering with a thin coating of sweat making the back of his neck shimmer. He flicked forward a few pages:

 _14_ _th_ _February 1994_

 _Today was a good day. I caught a glimpse of Ron showering and I finally got to see… it. For months now the thought of what it's length could be made me reel with excitement, and now I could at last get a rough measurement. Supporting myself on the four posters of his bed is still the best way to get accurate measurements from above. He nearly saw me tonight. He awoke around 2:00am when I was in the middle of getting his torso measurement, but I managed to stay concealed in the shadows. How I wish I could just crawl in there beside him and entwine my legs with his own very long ones._

 _What is it about tall guys that sends my heart racing? Hagrid still fulfils some of my fantasies of being with an overly tall man, but Ron is just so much more_ accessible. _I nearly lost my balance tonight when the beauty of him became overwhelming. I had to reach down and touch the soft skin of his exposed chest._

 _ **Lengths:**_

 _ **Head to toes:**_ _5 foot 8 inches_

 _ **Arms:**_ _2 foot 1.2 inches_

 _ **Right leg:**_ _3 foot 6 inches_

 _ **Left leg:**_ _3 foot 5.79 inches_

 _ **Shaft:**_ _approx. 5 inches_

Ron slammed the diary shut, "I've seen too much! Bloody hell!" By now the colour had drained from his face. Ron looked at his best friend who was still in the process of humping his bed and felt queasy. "This couldn't be a dodgy potion", he thought to himself, "This diary goes back to third year". Ron was faced to accept the grim reality that Harry had some warped obsession with him and his height, or 'length' as Harry liked to put it. "Professor, I- I- um… Please just keep this between us. I think I'm gonna try to talk to… stop… Harry doing… that. Thanks for your help anyway". The usually stern professor practically staggered out of the room, at no point opening his clasped lips to bid farewell to the horrified Weasley, for risk of bursting into complete hysterics.

With a churning stomach, Ron shuffled over to Harry who was quite obviously close to climaxing. He prepared himself to carefully nudge Harry's shoulder to gently coax him out of his apparent euphoria. Instead, he thumped him across the head with the forgotten pillow. Hard.

"Harry, what the bloody hell do you call all this? Do you have _any_ idea how creepy and twisted this is? I called _Snape_ up here for Merlin's sake- I thought someone had spiked you with a dodgy potion! But _no!_ I come up and find you DRY HUMPING MY BED. YOU PRACTICALLY INHALED MY PILLOW. YOU WATCH ME IN MY SLEEP. YOU _measure_ me. YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS OR I'LL- Harry?"

During his shouting, Harry had turned his head to look at his red-haired object of affection. "Ron-" his breath hitched. Ron turned crimson.


End file.
